Space Salt: Sands of the Hourglass
by Assan-Mahariel
Summary: Scenes that happened but couldn't be fit into Space Salt: Past
1. Lance, Angeldad, and the open road

(I don't own VLD or SPN)

-takes place during season 9, prior to 2013 entry for Space Salt-

Castiel was lucky in that I was the one who opened the door when he knocked.

"¿Quien esta en la puerta, hijo?"

"¡Una de esas personas que hablan de Jesús, mamá!" I shouted over my shoulder before I turned my gaze to Cas. "Cas? You're okay? I saw- I saw the-"

"Do you know where your father is?"

I glanced over my shoulder real quick, but none of my siblings were within earshot. Mama wouldn't hear me unless I shouted. "He… I ran into Garth the other day, he said dad wanted me to know that him and Uncle Sam were hiding out in Kansas. I have Garth's number. He could probably tell us."

Cas nodded before he spoke, looking more sheepish than I had ever seen him before, "good. Would I… would I be able to spend the night? It's.. it's late and I've come a long way."

"Uh, yeah, one second," I turned my head to yell over my shoulder, "mamá, ¿puedo invitar a un amigo a pasar la noche?"

"No sabiá que Lance tenía amigos," Veronica called from the couch.

"¡Cállate Roni!" I yelled at Veronica, "¡ya no eres mi hermana favorita!"

"!Obtendrás la chancla si sigues discutiendo! Lance, tu amigo puedo quedarse."

"¡Gracias, mamá!" I turned to Cas. "Mom says you can stay."

"She thinks I'm a friend from school?"

"Yeah, so don't anybody see you," I said, "but you can only stay the night on one condition."

I had Garth's number, and he did not, so after a moment where he channeled his own disappointed dad look at me, the angel (ex-angel?) gave in. "What is the condition?"

"You take me with you."

Cas and I huddled together on one of the seats of the broken bus. I didn't take up too much space, being a preteen and all, but that didn't stop me from being cold.

Somebody had lit a fire in the garbage can outside, but I didn't complain about the stink. I envy the people huddled around it, but I don't want to leave Castiel's side and I don't feel like moving, so I don't ask if he wants to go stand by the fire. The window's dirty, but it doesn't stop me from reaching out and wiping a circle into it. There's too many streetlights lighting up the night to see the stars, but I can see the fire more clearly. It just makes me feel colder.

I shifted closer to Cas. He didn't say anything, but tucked me against his side so he could wrap his trenchcoat around the both of us. His shirt is cleaner than the outside of the trenchcoat, after we've spent so long travelling on the streets, and I felt bad, knowing my dirty hoodie was probably getting his shirt dirty.

I must have fallen asleep, because suddenly I was jolting awake. I was alone on the seat, laying down on the seat and curled up using Castiel's trenchcoat as a blanket. I sat up, rubbing my eyes as I looked around for the angel. It didn't take long, as said angel was standing in the lane between seats; he must have shaken me awake.

"We have to go," Cas said; he was clutching his arm, which glistened red in the dim light.

I got up and followed him out without a word, waiting until I couldn't see the bus below the bridge behind us before I cast him a curious glance.

"Angels," he said.

I nodded and handed his trenchcoat back to him. He tried to refuse, even though I could see him shivering.

"I'm getting too warm," I said. "Take it back, Cas. Can't have my only responsible adult get sick."

After a moment spent thinking it over, Cas obliged, taking the coat and pulling it on. "Let me know when you get cold, okay?"

"Okay," I said.

We both knew that I wouldn't.

A nice lady gave us each a sandwich after finding us looking for food in the trash, and told us that we could stay at her place for the night if we had nowhere else to go.

I could see the temptation to accept her offer and with how long Cas hesitated he was probably tempted to stay, too, but after a moment he told her that we were fine. We both thanked her for the food, then continued on our way.

Half an hour prior to meeting her, we'd passed a cornerstore that had a tv on. On the screen, my mother had been asking for me to come home with tear stained eyes. It had hurt seeing her so sad, hurt so much that it was almost enough to make me turn back. I wanted to call, but Cas and I were on foot and I didn't want to risk the call being tracked. So far, the police seemed to think Cas had kidnapped me. They'd put my face up on the screen, but the picture for Cas was an artist's work obviously going off of somebody's description.

If Cas and I hadn't been so worried about being kept from getting to dad, maybe we would have accepted the lady's offer. But we were worried, and so we didn't, and we continued on our way.


	2. Mr Harpe

(Set 2012)

Most of the students, both girl and boy, seemed to have a crush on the school nurse, a golden haired man with sunkissed skin and covered in freckles from head to toe.

I did not have a crush on the nurse. I could say without a doubt that I most definetly did not. I had to see him everyday and only got flustered occasionally. Occasionally as in every day, but it was better than not being able to manage even a simple conversation with the man like the majority of the student body.

Also, anyone who got to stab me with a syringe every morning lost a couple points in the attractive department.

"There we go-" Mr. Harpe pulled the syringe from my arm, all the gold that had been within now somewhere within my bloodstream- "all done."

"How much longer do I need them?"

"A couple more weeks," he said. "It'll be over before you know it."

It had already been a month of the daily shots. Sometimes I wished I'd been foolish enough to stand up for myself, consequences be damned. Maybe then I wouldn't have cut my arm when Dylan Maverick hit me with his lunch tray and it wouldn't have gotten infected.

The infection had gone ages ago; no matter what they say about beauty lacking brains, Mr. Harpe had a talent when it came to his job. I hadn't even known nurses were allowed to give shots to kids at school, but everyone I told who spoke to him about it would just tell me not to worry about it when they came back from his office before dropping it as if I had never said anything.

But Mr. Harpe was also one of the only ones at the school who didn't hate me for what my dad was being framed for, so I had dropped the questions pretty quickly.

I'd almost called Garth to talk to him about it, but I didn't feel like I had been potioned or anything and I didn't want to be annoying by worrying about something that probably was exactly what it seemed. Just a worried nurse taking care to… to..

I didn't know what the shots were for. I had assumed it was for the infection, and then maybe to keep my immune system up, but I could just about kick myself. I was getting rusty and rusty Hunters are quick to die.

It was as he was putting the syringe into the sharps container on the wall that I realised I had brought it up to everyone except the one administering the whole thing in the first place.

"Mr. Harpe?"

"Mhm?"

"What… what are the shots for?"

He looked at me, then. For a long moment his eyes stared into mine, golden irises seeming to pin me to the spot. And then his gaze focused back onto the notepad he'd picked up to jot down a couple illegible marks in and the feeling was gone.

"Think of it as an immune system boost. Something that will keep you and those around you from introducing illnesses you might not share antibodies for," he said. "You'll be late for class, Lance. Best to head along, now."

It was... dismissive. Mr. Harpe was usually warm and happy, with his voice giving off the same chipper tone as his bright smile, but he'd mumbled out his words.

I hopped off the cot and grabbed my bag, casting him a quick farewell and recieving a small wave in response. He kept his gaze stubbornly focused on his notepad.

Maybe I should call Garth. Maybe- no, it was probably something normal. But…

But a good Hunter is always careful.

School was not my favorite place. The irony of losing sleep to break into my least favorite place wasn't lost on me, but the Hunter Paranoia ingrained into me refused to let it go.

And so here I was at ass o'clock in the morning just to break into the nurse's office, packing the knife and pistol that mom and my stepdad didn't know I had.

I got in well enough; the janitor on shift tonight turned a blind eye in response to a bribe of ten dollars and a quickly spun tale of wanting to prank a friend. From there, it had been child's play to pick the lock on the nurse's office.

His office seemed a lot less welcoming in the dark and empty school.

The small sideroom that held the medical supplies and the fridge full of juice boxes and water had nothing suspicious. The sharps containter had been emptied, so I couldn't grab one to check any for traces of their former contents.

The desk was locked and put up more of a fuss towards being lockpicked than the door had. It took me a couple minutes longer than usual but within five minutes I was finally awarded with a click.

I grabbed the handle and nearly had a heart attack as I heard someone clear their throat behind me. I scrambled away from the desk as if it had burned me, my heart pounding in my ears as I turned to see Mr. Harpe.

"Mr. Harpe! Sorry, I was just- um, I forgot my phone, see, and I figured maybe you found it and usually adults put phones in their desks so I figured hey maybe I should check there-"

He held up a hand and I shut up with an audible clack as my mouth snapped shut. I hadn't decided to shut it.

I went for my knife only to close my hand around empty air. Mr. Harpe put his hands on my shoulders and gently pulled me a couple steps away from his desk before sitting down in his chair and placing both my pistol and my knife on top of his desk.

"Sit."

My body stumbled over to the cot and sat down.

Mr. Harpe opened the dwarer I had unlocked and pulled out a small case. I couldn't move of my own volition, but I certainly noticed the golden knife he pulled out of it.

"This has to stop being a once a week thing, Lance," Mr. Harpe said. "What is it about Wednesdays that you think makes for a good night to break in?"

What?

"Come here."

No. No, no, no, no. My body didn't listen. It stumbled up and walked over to Mr. Harpe.

He cut his palm. I expected the wound to bloom red but a golden liquid seeped out instead.

It looked exactly like what was in the daily shots.

"The problem with time travel is that those traveling back share disease the past's residents lack immunities to. Travel forward, and the future has diseases you lack immunities to. Usually, whatever spell can send one back takes care of it with a side effect of temporary disease immunity-" he dipped a finger in his own blood and then wiped it onto my lips and then sketched a series of symbols that I could not see onto my face- "now, think of what you learned about when the settlers met the native americans in this country. The natives were decimated in the face of diseases they had never been in contact with before. When people speak of finding aliens, they never seem to consider the idea of sharing diseases with the other species."

Mr. Harpe waved his hand over his wound and his skin stitched itself back together.

"There's the whole matter of entirely different species, of course. But you will spend a good portion of time around species similar enough," Mr. Harpe said. "Do not be afraid, little one. I'm only ensuring that when the time comes, you will act as what can be likened to an embodiment of that certain little side effect pertaining to most time travel spells. You will radiate an aura preventing the sharing of disease between you and the species you come across. I'm one of the things living on Earth, you know, and I wouldn't appreciate losing one of Earth's few hopes for ignorance of the supernatural and extraterrestrial just because one of the mortals the hope depends on was dying from some alien cold."

He waved his hand and I found that my body was listening to me again.

"What are you talking about? What are you?"

His eyes flashed like a demon's, with gold instead of black.

"I am Apollo," he said, an eldrich voice that seemed to echo with the power within it, and then he reached out and brushed his hand against my forehead. "And you are a future Paladin of Voltron. Sleep, little mortal, and let your memory of this night drift free from your mind."

I woke up in bed to the sound of my alarm. I spared a couple minutes after smacking the device to enjoy having had a dreamless sleep; I still felt a little tired, but it beat having had another nightmare.

Mr. Harpe was as chipper as always when he administered my daily shot that morning.

"There we go-" he told me- "all done."

I couldn't help wondering about them. Surely with the infection gone I didn't need boosters? The Hunter Paranoia ingrained in me couldn't help but feel uneasy.

Wednesday was the easiest day to sneak out considering nobody was usually up until around 7. Today was Thursday, so I would have to wait for next week. I could get in, have a look around, and be gone without Mr. Harpe suspecting a thing.

I hopped off the cot and grabbed my bag and cast him a quick farewell. He gave a small wave, watching me as I left his office for a moment before turning his gaze onto a notepad on the corner of his desk.

Maybe I should call Garth and talk to him about it. Maybe- no, it was probably something normal. But…

But a good Hunter is always careful.


End file.
